


Unprimed Canvas

by kwunkwun



Category: Persona 3
Genre: Drabbles, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 07:04:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4615917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwunkwun/pseuds/kwunkwun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The cut isn't that deep," Akihiko said, as if he needed to somehow justify what they had been doing. "Does it still hurt?" An ongoing series of Akijun drabbles based on colours.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Red

Velvety, rich, like the shine of polished mahogany –blood trickled down Junpei's chin, blotting the intricately patterned floor tiles of Tartarus.

"You should have bitten down first if you saw it coming," Akihiko chastised.

"I –ow! –didn't see it," Junpei replied with some difficulty.

His teeth, even, were glazed with pink, and the spot on his cheek where the shadow had struck him was already taking on a purplish tinge.

The Magician ran his tongue around his mouth and spat into a corner.

Akihiko reached for his evoker. "Look, let me heal you –

–no, its fine," Junpei interrupted with a lazy wave of his hand. "It's just a scratch. Don't waste your Dia on me."

"You sure? It'll save having to explain that gigantic bruise to the teachers tomorrow."

"But I'll get to look like a hardcore thug!"

The trademark Junpei grin quickly dissolved into a pained grimace, and out of sympathy Akihiko held back his reprimand at the Magician's stupid comment.

"Let me take a look."

Junpei flinched as the boxer reached forward to grasp his chin, but the press of those gloved fingers against his face was surprisingly gentle –timid, even.

A thumb nudging at the seam of his lips prompted Junpei to open his mouth so that Akihiko could inspect the cut. His Kaiser knuckles carried the faint scent of ash and burning oil. The cold gleam of those blunt spikes in Junpei's peripheral vision was an alarming contrast to the firm heat of his upperclassman's hand.

Sanada-san's hands are essentially weapons, Junpei suddenly realised.

That thought made him extremely nervous –not, inexplicably, because he was scared. Fear didn't explain the heat rising up his neck, nor the hammering of his heart as Akihiko's marble grey eyes flicked up to meet his own.

His gaze was unwavering, unreadable, even as two fingers probed past his lips, tracing over the ridges on the inner wall of his mouth, over the bumps of his teeth, rubbing against his gums.

The metal spikes at his knuckles periodically slid against his injured cheek, slowly leeching his body heat. A firm press at the back of his tongue had Junpei emitting a surprised, strangled gasp that shouldn't have sounded as obscene as it did.

That controlled detachedness in the boxer's eyes seemed to falter at the sound –and the zing of blood, metal and worn leather promptly gave way to the heat and taste of Akihiko's mouth. The gloved hand fell from his chin to the small of Junpei's back, staining his white shirt with petal-like smudges of blood and saliva.

When Akihiko pulled back, Junpei felt slightly pleased that the Emperor didn't look quite as calm as collected as he did five minutes ago.

"The cut isn't that deep," Akihiko said, as if he needed to somehow justify what they had been doing. "Does it still hurt?"

"Nah," Junpei answered. "Though I think you could've tried a little harder to make me feel better."

The boxer rolled his eyes and thumped him gently on the shoulder. "Idiot. We should really regroup with the others first."

"First, huh? Sounds like a pretty good incentive to me," Junpei replied with poorly feigned offhandedness.


	2. Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akihiko is sick, and Junpei stays.

The dark hour cast everything in a sickly glow of absinthe.

Akihiko was lying in bed, miserably watching the yellow moon outside his room. The sheets were soaked with the eerie light, criss-crossed with sharp shadows from the windowpane.

Minato and the others had just headed off to Tartarus. Akihiko had overexerted himself the night before and was sporting a pounding headache and a cold, garnished with a hacking cough on top. As much as he insisted that he was fine, Mitsuru had ordered him to bed –at the very least, she had given him an apologetic look before leaving.

The boxer rolled onto his side, away from the jarring light. The cotton sheets smelt of morning frost on grass –cold, discomforting, making him yearn for the warm heat of the kitchen. It was a distant, hazy memory of waiting at the doorway, Miki rocking back and forth in excitement at his side as fragrant steam drifted from the stove.

Akihiko sighed, shutting his eyes against the image. He didn't want to reminisce, especially when he was sick –it just dragged him down further and there was nothing he hated more than feeling sorry for himself.

He was startled by a sudden knock on the door.

"Who's there?" he demanded, already on his feet and poised in a defensive position.

Junpei's silhouette in the shadowy recess of the doorway looked just as startled.

"Just me," the younger man responded apologetically. "Can I come in?"

"I thought you left with the others?" Akihiko asked, relaxing.

"Um, yeah… but I just went off to Paulownia Mall," Junpei explained, slightly embarrassed as he gestured towards the small plastic bag he was carrying. "I got you some medicine and stuff."

"Oh," was all Akihiko could say as he sat back down. He was more than a little surprised, given that Junpei liked being on the front lines (almost) as much as him.

"Yeah, you're _welcome_ ," Junpei responded, playfully sarcastic. "Hey, can we get some lights in here?"

Akihiko nodded.

"But don't you want to get back to Tartarus?" he asked, as Junpei flicked on the desk lamp.

He regretted it even before he finished saying it. He must be pretty sick, because that just sounded like _it'd be good if you stayed,_ even to his own ears.

Junpei caught his upperclassman's embarrassed cringe and tried not to grin.

"It's fine, I feel like watching you suffer."

"Sadist. Wait till it's _your_ turn."

"Oh, you offering to play nurse when I'm sick? That's sweet of you, Sanada-san."

Well damn, he walked right into _that_ one.

"Just you wait," he growled, slipping back under the covers.

Junpei unloaded the items from his plastic bag onto the bedside table, and began to pour out some cough syrup into a medicine cup with an almost comically overrated level of concentration.

Akihiko's eyes softened as he watched him. Most people thought of Junpei as nothing but a perverted, goofy slacker, but the Emperor knew better. Those nonchalant warm touches against his shoulder after a gruelling battle at Tartarus; those relaxed, spontaneous grins that Junpei would send him from across the room. Those were snippets of the true Junpei that he was lucky enough to be able to see.

In what he hoped was an inconspicuous fashion, Akihiko shifted a little closer towards the warmth radiating from his underclassman's body.

"Hey Sanada-san, you should have some chicken soup before your medicine," Junpei suggested.

The boxer looked up at him, surprised. "Wait, you _made_ chicken soup?"

Junpei shrugged. "I just heated up some chicken stock and chucked in some leftover KFC and an onion."

Akihiko started to laugh so hard that he fell into a coughing fit.

He laughed some more after a quite concerned Junpei told him that he was just joking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the super late updates!


	3. Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junpei gives Akihiko a birthday present.

"Kay, you can look now!"

Akihiko blinks as Junpei's hands drop from his eyes to his shoulders. On his lap lay a thick towel of deep ultramarine blue.

"Uh, what is that?" he said, turning his head to raise a quizzical eyebrow at his underclassman.

Junpei gives Akihiko's shoulders an affectionate squeeze and responds, "well duh, it's your birthday present!"

"A towel?" Akihiko questions –not disappointed, simply confused.

One corner of Junpei's lips quirk in a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I don't have much money, and I wanted to get you something useful –

–no, that's not what I meant," Akihiko interjects, his hand reaching out almost reflexively to touch Junpei's arm. "I can use this when I'm training."

Gaze dropping back to the present on his lap, he runs his palm over its soft surface, across the two inch-wide embossed lines near the hem. He notices now: the small embroidered _A_ in elegant but subdued curvature, sitting at the corner of the towel in silver thread.

Junpei's hands slip from his shoulders, and Akihiko feels the heat of the body against his back fade as he turns around. Retracted to the foot of the bed, the Magician appears suddenly subdued.

"Hey, are you ok?" He raises to his knees to pull Junpei closer –the bed dips at the abrupt movement, but it is nothing like the Mills and Boons type cliché of falling into each other's arms. Junpei simply lurches forward and the rim of his cap hits Akihiko in the eye.

A minute of muffled curses, mattress creaking and body shuffling later, they are awkwardly seated side by side at the head of the bed.

"Sorry," Junpei mumbles, pinching the hem of his socks and letting the band slap against his ankle. "I just thought you were thinking that it's pretty gay to get a towel from another guy for his birthday. Embossed and everything."

The flush on Junpei's cheeks is almost imperceptible in the fading light of the early evening. The vermilion glow washes over Junpei's body like a gentle fire; his eyes, focused somewhere on Akihiko's shoulder, are an anxious charcoal under the shadow of his baseball hat.

Seeing Junpei in so many different 'first times' was, to Akihiko, becoming something akin to collecting trophies: not the kind to be put on display, but the kind to cherish and protect.

He smiles and leans close to brush a kiss to the corner of Junpei's lips.

"Are you saying that we're not gay?"

His poor attempt at quipping never fails to make the Magician snigger.

"If you don't like it, Sanada-san, just give the damn thing back so I can get my 4500 yen refund."

"Yes, Junpei. I like it. Thank you. But honestly, 4500 yen is pretty luxuri–

Junpei's mouth tastes like relief and impatience.

Who was the birthday boy, here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly early bday fic for Aki. Whoop whoop!


End file.
